


Altered Paths

by DaysOfFuturePast



Category: Game of Thrones (Books), Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-03-24 04:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13803390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaysOfFuturePast/pseuds/DaysOfFuturePast
Summary: (This is the companion piece to Whispers)  Eddard is given tutelage by a mysterious weapons master from Essos while serving as ward in the Vale of Arryn. Eddard emerges from the mountain stronghold a changed man - this is his story.





	1. Confluence on the Trident

**Author's Note:**

> AN #1: All time is based on the beginning of Whispers. Thus, when i say two decades ago i mean from the first chapter of that Story.
> 
> AN #2: This story will be told in a non linear fashion.
> 
> AN #3: This story will use primarily the Books as source but HBO did a few things right so i will use those when it makes since.

Altered Paths

Confluence on the Trident

Two Decades Past

 

The sky was crying rivers of tears washing down into the glen.  The sky releasing its fears for several days now.  The rain unremitting in its deluge.  What did it mean?  Anything?  Or was merely nature raining uncaring of the travails of man.

Rhaegar had no idea in all reality.  He only knew he had his part to play in this murmurs play and play it he must.  A soft sigh escaped his lips.  This path had been laid out for the Heir to the Iron Throne since he read that damn poem “A Song of Ice and Fire”.  His path had been set on that night.  He cursed himself for ever picking up that damnable book of poems.  No matter now.

He stood on the threshold of his royal tent.  His weary gaze out over his camp saw his men around their tents and fires.  The weather made them miserable.  The Crown Prince knew that Robert and his forces must be equally miserable on the other side of the Trident. 

Only the seven knew where Eddard and Jon Arryn were.  They had refused Robert’s call to arms but had not joined up with Rhaegar.  They had refused to align with the Iron Throne.  They were out there somewhere.  But where?

What came were they playing? Rhaegar wondered yet again. 

His scouts had easily found Robert’s forces as the Stag’s scouts found his.  The battle would be tomorrow.  The Crown Prince and the Pretender would contend tomorrow on the Trident.  The two armies closing on each other for over a week now.  The Dragon and Stag would contend for Westeros on the morrow.  Tomorrow would decide the destiny of Westeros. 

Not so the Direwolf and Eagle.  They had simply vanished off the battlefield.  They were out there though.  Rhaegar could feel it.  The two forces of the North watching and waiting.  They had refused entreaty both from himself and his foe.  Why had they taken the field?  What game were they playing?  He wish he knew.

House Tully had formed a blocking force to the North.  They were protecting the North while House Stark and Arryn came south to contend in the Game of Thrones.  Their march south marked till they simply vanished.  It was unsettling.

The tall prince of House Targaryen stepped out into the heavy rain.  His white hair instantly wet to his scalp and slicked to his face and shoulders.  He titled his head back.  Let the rain wash away my doubts and fears he wished.  They remained.  He looked off to the South and the Tower of Joy so far away.  He knew that Lyanna would soon have their love child.

She was always so beautiful.  He had loved her from first sight.  Her fiery spirit calling to him.  Elia Martell was so meek and docile by comparison.  He had not wanted to marry her but duty had precluded any other recourse.  She was a good woman Rhaegar knew but there was no passion in their marriage.  He had married her out of duty and he had forever resented it.  He fought the ill feelings but it was no use.  Just looking at her made him cringe now.  It was unfair to Elia but Rhaegar could not undo his feelings.

It was not her fault he knew but he could not help his feelings.  Lyanna was perfect for him.  _Why had she come too late to him_?! Rhaegar again raged at the fates.

He had given her his garland of blue roses at the Tourney of Harrenhall and crowned her the queen of love and beauty.  He had been that infatuated with Lyanna.  She had almost eloped with him several months later when he came to her but she had refused.

She had told him that honor dictated that she marry Robert Baratheon even though she did not love him.  She loved Rhaegar but would not shirk her duty.  It had broken his heart but he carried on.  Lyanna’s refusal reminded Rhaegar of his own duty.  He carried on the burden of his marriage to Elia Martel.  _What else could he do_?

For five years the status quo had continued.  Both Rhaegar and Lyanna trapped in marriages they did not want to be in.  Word quickly spread as it always did through the Spider’s Web and through simple gossip how badly Lyanna suffered in her marriage to Robert.

Sad tales of abuse wafted back to King Landings and to Rhaegar.  Robert in drunken fury would strike Lyanna.  He would rage at the woman for not ‘submitting’ or ‘keep your damn mouth shut woman’.  From the reports Robert was civil when he was not drunk but when he over imbibed he became mean and vile.  He expected his woman to docilely follow three steps behind him and not express herself contrary to his speech or views.  His drunken bouts coming closer together.

Lyanna refused to submit.  He remembered Eddard’s words “Lyanna is filled with the wolf.”

Rhaegar let the rain fall on him.  He hoped to let the cool water calm his troubled thoughts.

It was strange how fate worked Rhaegar mused.  Elia was docile and Lyanna filled with fire.  They had simply been forced to marry the wrong man.  Rhaegar knew his own mother had protested vehemently her marriage to his father.  She had no choice in the matter.  Neither had Elia or Lyanna.  Nor had he.

The Crown Prince wondered on this system of forced marriages.  What was one to do?  One tried to meet one’s duty.  All but Elia had failed in their duty he knew with a hint of shame.

Robert was untrue to Lyanna.  He had claimed his undying love to the Stark beauty and immediately cheated on her with any number of consorts and whores.  He had too much fire to ever be true to one woman. When that woman protested and rebelled she suffered.

Deep in his conscious Rhaegar knew Elia suffered in her marriage to Rhaegar.  She suffered his brooding silences and sour withdrawn disposition.  He had never learned to be able to fake a love he did not feel.  Elia tried to be the dutiful wife supporting her husband who would one day be king.

It was not enough.  Lyanna had been and was enough for Rhaegar.

They had communicated by Raven and secret courier.  She expressed at first her growing unhappiness and then outright anger and despair.  Robert was slowly getting worse in his abusive ways.  The fact that she did not conceive an heir only exacerbated the problem.

Rhaegar had had his suspicions and where confirmed that Lyanna drank moon tea to remove any issue of Robert Baratheon from her body.  Let his bastards be his heirs she had written Rhaegar.  Rhaegar could hear her anger in his mind.

Finally, ten months ago she had begged him to come to her and he had.  He was ready to fight heaven and hell for Lyanna.  Tomorrow it would all come to its culmination.  He knew he had thrown Westeros into turmoil and war but he had to follow his heart.  After his victory on the Trident tomorrow he would start to set things right.  He would work to bring Westeros peace and fulfill the prophecy he had read in that damned book of poems. 

//////////

The rain pelted down on Robert Baratheon.  His mighty Warhammer slashed and hammered the straw dummies setup near his tent.  He attacked them with a vengeance.  For months as his army prepared to march Robert had honed his skills that had started to wane and atrophy.  He now saw how far his body had degenerated into slothfulness but he was again in full fighting shape and vigor.

Robert Baratheon had finally, fully remembered himself.  He had not realized just how much he had let himself go in the last five years.  He was now back in fighting trim ready to face any foe.  The time it had taken for the Houses of Westeros to organize and arm their hosts had allowed Robert to take off the fat and regain his muscle mass.  Woe onto his enemies he snarled smashing apart another dummy. 

He worked to make sure he kept his strokes under control.  Fast repeated strokes to wear down your foe and only then bringing in a full two handed stroke with backswing.  He pictured in his mind his Warhammer slamming into the black armored chest of Rhaegar Targaryen.  The rubies and gems spilling out as so did Rhaegar’s ruined heart.

The thought pleased the tall massive warrior.

Rhaegar would pay for stealing his wife.  His heart raged at the ignominy of it.  The humiliation of it all burned in his veins.  He was shamed by not being able to control his contrarian wife.  Lyanna never did accept his rule or obey his edicts.

Eddard had warned him that “Lyanna is filled with the wolf Robert.  She will be a handful.”  Eddard had told him this with a soft teasing smile.  Looking back Robert knew he saw also sadness in that smile.  Little had Robert known just how prophetic those words would become.

The woman would not follow him from rear as any good woman should.  She would not take his word as gospel.  She always wanted to give her opinion and would argue with him on his choices.  It did not matter if he was right or wrong.  He was the man.  It was her duty to support him fully.  Instead all Lyanna had given him was rancor and discord.

The image of Lyanna with a bruised cheek or split lip came to Robert’s eye.  The tall mountain of a man shivered at the mental image.  Outwardly, he snarled and his Warhammer slammed even harder into the dummies he was practicing on.

It was no his fault!  If Lyanna would simply follow his commands he would never lose his temper.

Her constant harping on his drinking did not help.  He needed to relax and he needed a sip or two of the grape to take the edge off after a hard day of rule.

He grimaced with other unpleasant memories.  Lyanna confronting him on his … his love of the female body.  He was a man with appetites and manly desires.  He was the Warden of the Stormlands.  He could not help it if women found him extremely desirable.  He was born with both good looks and prowess.  What man did not want to prove through conquest of willing females of his manly ardor and virile attributes. 

Women came to him all the time seeking to lie with him.  When a woman caught his eye did he not have the right as the Lord of Storm’s End to take what was part of his fiefdom? 

Lyanna had bitched about the bastards he left behind.  That was not his problem!  Let their mothers take care of them.

On this Robert thought on uneasily but quickly decided to push aside.  The thoughts unpleasant to him.

Robert’s mind turned to more urgent unpleasant thoughts.

What the hell was Eddard playing at!  Robert Baratheon turned over in his mind yet again Eddard’s actions both recent and past.  His behavior had become so strange.  The man’s actions simply perplexed Robert.  His childhood friend had changed.  Robert again tried to pinpoint in time when those changes began and was not completely sure but it was definitely back in their days as wards of Jon Arryn.

It seemed like one day Eddard was there by his side his loyal friend and companion in their adventures and then he wasn’t.  _No that was not exactly right_.  Eddard had seemed to fade away.  He became more … what was the word … the best word maybe was reflective but Robert found Eddard’s change of demeanor more unsettling if not outright strange.

Eddard would say the damnedest things and stare off into the distance as if seeking the mysteries of the world.  He would stand on the outer walls of Eyrie in summer and simply stare at nothing for hours.  Something had changed in Eddard and Robert had no idea what it could have been.

Eddard was still his quiet if pleasant self.  They still shared good times but Eddard had been off since … when … he could not be sure …

Now in his hour of need Eddard had refused his call to banners.  Worse he had persuaded Holster Tully and Jon Arryn to also not come to his aid.  His informants reported that the forces of the Trout, Eagle and Direwolf had taken to the field.  They had marched south and then … they had disappeared.  His scouts could not find them.  He had men who reported to him embedded in Rhaegar’s forces that they too sought to locate Eddard and his allies.  They had as much as luck as he had.  That was none.

How such a large force could not be found was again unsettling.  A word that seemed to define Eddard anymore.

What was he playing at?  Eddard in his reply to Robert to come to his aid had baffled the tall warrior.  His written response was unfathomable and had unsettled Robert to his core.  He remembered his perplexed ire reading Eddard’s words “In war, truth is the first casualty” and then “Force is all-conquering, but its victories are short-lived” and the most confounding “I am left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one.”  _What the hell did all that mean_?!

Robert had been wronged and he demanded vengeance.  From this initial desire he had let his ambitions run riot.  House Targaryen had committed villainy and broken honor.  It was time for a new order to sit on the Iron Throne.

He swung his Warhammer harder remembering the letter Lyanna had left him when she had run off with Rhaegar.  He had told all that would listen that Rhaegar had abducted his wife against her will.  He had burned the damned infernal letter.  The words written therein turning to ash.  Lyanna had called Rhaegar to her.  She had never truly loved Robert for she knew his faults “and you have lived down to them all.  May you enjoy your whores and bastards.”

Lyanna had never understood him or his rights and needs.  She would suffer greatly when he caught up to her.  There were other princesses that he could wed.  Ones more tractable and understanding.

He had made overtures to House Tyrell and Lannister when Eddard refused his call to arms.  Though vague he was sure they would support him if he proved himself on the battlefield.  That was what he would do tomorrow in the morning.  Rhaegar was on the other bank of the Trident.  They would meet.  The beginning of Robert’s new reign began with Rhaegar’s death. 

Robert smiled.

////////////

Eddard looked out the flap of his tent hidden in the edge of the corpse of trees he had set camp in.  He had ridden out with Rodrik Cassel and a small band of his most loyal and capable troops.  The titular heads of House Arryn and Tully had done likewise.  Their tents hidden in the trees.  Strength of arms was not needed but stealth.  He had left their forces fifty miles to the north and ridden at night for two night to arrive here.

The rain was falling harder now.  The new Steward of the North looked up at the low rolling clouds.  The rains had arrived two days ago and looked like they had little intention of leaving.

The roiling clouds looked like what Eddard felt.  Unsettled.  He knew what he must do but was dreading it.  He would not shirk what was necessary but he could still wish it away though he knew it would not disappear.

A war was about to be fought that had no basis to be fought.  To plunge a whole continent into war because one woman left a man for another was insanity Eddard knew.  He stared out at the hard falling rain.  He had refused the call of Robert Baratheon to strike his banners and go into the field to support his claim of injustice.  He had also refused Rhaegar’s call to arms and support the Iron Throne.

Neither man were worthy of Eddard’s allegiance.  One man abused and cheated on his wife and the other had broken the bonds of matrimony of another man and his wife.  Eddard supposed he would have sided with Rhaegar in a hearing of grievance before him in Winterfell but he could not do so here.

Here war was the result.  He had to choose what was right for the greater good.

His beloved sister had made her choice.  She had told Eddard of her misgivings in marrying Robert.  Their father and older brother had reminded Lyanna of her duty.  She had agreed to marry Robert.  The honor of House Stark was at stake.  Robert was a friend of the House of Stark and their marriage would be a powerful alliance for the North.

Lyanna had come to Eddard.

“What would you have me do brother?  We both know Robert.  Should I accept his marriage proposal?”

Eddard cursed himself now.  His heart had told him the truth but his mind had wanted to look at what was possible.

“I cannot tell you what to do Lyanna.  Robert has his … appetites this is true but maybe with your influence you can tame the rutting stag.   We are all bound by honor and duty.  We must temper these obligations with our discernment of right and wrong.  I do know that father wishes you to marry Robert.  It was I that brought his proposal for your betrothal to him.”  Eddard had paused then.  His heart hammering at his mind to forgo the rituals and ties of man and to follow the path of right for right’s sake.  “I think you should marry the man Lyanna.”  He had not listened to his heart.  Lyanna had not been able to endure her marriage.  War was about to ensue because of it.

Eddard rued his words now five years later.  Maybe it would have been better if Lyanna had run away with Rhaegar when he gave her the wreath of blue roses at the Tourney of Herrenhall.  Lyanna later told her brother she had almost run away with him but Eddard’s words had haunted Lyanna and she had not gone.

I was a fool Eddard now knew.  Robert had to be true to who he was.  But Robert had proven to be worse than Eddard could have imagined.  He had never thought that Robert would abuse the woman he was married too. He loved women so much that Eddard had not conceived that his old childhood friend could be an abuser of women.

The concept so foreign to Eddard that he could not truly fathom it.  True he had had to marry Catelyn Tully when his eldest brother had runoff with Lehna Hightower.  The woman was beautiful to be sure but her willful temperament was highly questionable.  Brandon had fallen for her charms and run off to Essos with the woman.  He had refused to listen to Eddard or his father.

He had returned two and half years later the chastised prodigal son.  His father, Rickard Stark, had taken Brandon back in with open arms.  He was the eldest.  Of course his running off with an illicit lover had changed many things.  Brandon’s arrangement of marriage had to be honored to House Tully. 

Eddard had stepped in to marry Catelyn Stark.  He smiled at the memory.  He had only cursorily noticed Catelyn in the past.  They had practically been strangers on their wedding night.  The bedding ceremony terribly embarrassing to both shy participants.  Especially one Eddard Stark.

Now Eddard had three children he loved dearly and a wife he had come to love dearly as well after years of marriage.  His five years of marriage to Catelyn Tully a blessing.  Their union rewarded with first the twins Robb and Arya less than a year after their marriage.  Three years later Sansa was born to them.  All his children a blessing.  Eddard smiled at his wife’s desire to give him more strong sons.

His smile faded.  His happy family all the more brought home the news the ravens brought from Lyanna.

With eyes sad, Eddard walked out into the rain and let the cool drops splash on his unprotected head and face.  The rain soothing his troubled thoughts on what he was sure he must do.

His mentor had prepared him for this moment for nearly fourteen years.  He had developed Eddard’s body, mind and soul.  He had made Eddard into something that the Earth rarely saw.  Eddard had become death incarnate.  It was a heavy burden to be so gifted.  He had used his gift but rarely.  He did not relish in the taking of life.  His Sensei had seen to that.  Still, the gift of death sometimes had to be granted.

Eddard was sure that tomorrow he would give its benefice to those who did not desire it.  Eddard moved to the hanging leaves of a maple.  The leaves bedraggled in the heavy rain.  He studied the veins that ran through the leaf.  He could almost see the pulse of life in the leaf.  He sighed.  He more easily saw that pulse in a leaf than in man.  How strange; how sad.

Jon Arryn had shrikes scattered in Lannisport and Highgarden.  They reported to Jon and, thus to him troubling words.  The two mightiest houses in Westeros were conspiring against House Targaryen.  King Aerys II Targaryen, the "Mad King", as he was now called had dissipated the rule of that house. 

The son of Riddick Stark had hoped that Rhaegar would have taken the Iron Throne by now.  Now it was too late.  Rhaegar had the mettle to be a good king but his adultery and the stirring of ambition in the heart of other Houses of Westeros required a change of the guard.

Word had reached Jon and Eddard that Tywin would “smooth” the way for Robert Baratheon to take the Iron Throne.  Those words had chilled Eddard to his core.  Tywin had been Hand to King Aerys II.  The King would trust the old cagy battle scared lion until it was too late.  Jamie Lannister was a member of the Kings Guard.  Would he be part of the conspiracy?

House Tyrell wanted a scion of its House on the Iron Throne as King preferably or as Queen if need be.  They would be more circumspect Eddard was sure.

He knew what he needed to do.  Would he be able to carry it through?  Could he work the ethos to a less dramatic and deadly conclusion.  He feared not.

His Sensei had trained him for this day from the beginning.  “I see in you the perfect balance Eddard Stark.  You will do what must be done when it must be done.  You have it in you to achieve all things.  I will make you an avatar of Death.  You merely must learn how to decide and when to call upon her.”

Neither men were worthy of sitting on the Iron Throne.  King Aerys II had sacrificed the right to the Iron Throne with the death of his father and brother.  Their deaths would be avenged.  Damn their honor for letting themselves be put in that position.

Eddard could have easily extracted himself from that situation.  Of course he would have killed the King and any of the King’s Guard unfortunate to being forced to try and stop him.

Eddard knew his abilities and the responsibilities that came with them.  He knew he had to choose wisely with the gifts he had been granted.

“Your line is meant for greatness Eddard Stark.  Magic is coming back to the world.  It will be a Stark that will guide and shepherd that return.”

“When will this occur Sensei?”

“Not for a generation yet I believe.  Maybe tomorrow though.  Always in the motion is reality.  To know its course is unfathomable.  The priests of R’hllor are correct when they say the flames show many what ifs and what may be.  We have to try and decipher the threads of fate and act accordingly.”

With a shake of his head and wry snort Eddard thought that he was still waiting after nearly fifteen years.  He had always doubted he was the one but that his Sensei spoke of his prodigy.  Was it Robb?  Somehow Eddard doubted it.

His teacher had taught him to trust his instincts.  His instincts told him it would be Arya or Sansa.  Arya was the eldest child born before Robb.  Sansa was only two years old.  Arya did seem to have a fire in her.  Already she was refusing to wear dresses unless his wife threatened her with the switch.  Arya was definitely a tomboy Eddard smiled.

Just like Lyanna.  She had railed against their father and told him that she wanted to learn the way of the sword.  Of course their father had refused.

With a start Eddard stopped.  What was it his Sensei had said to him back near the start of his tutelage?

“See the truth Eddard.  Don’t see convention. Don’t see tradition or past history.  Do not let the norms or customs of society blind you to the truth Eddard.  See what is truly possible.  See what _should_ be.”

Eddard looked up at the rain falling from the dark rolling clouds.  The drops splashing onto his face seeking to impart wisdom.  The drops fragmenting on his face seeking to give him new perceptions and insights to realities he had never conceived of.

His insight had led him down the dangerous path he was now on.  He needed to go further he had seen suddenly with clarity.  He needed to have the courage to do what was necessary.  He was suddenly sure to whom he would give the coin to that his Sensei had given him.

Tomorrow he would begin to reshape Westeros.  It was his destiny.  Why else had he been trained to become what he was?  Death given flesh.

//////////

Robert had awoken with the first chirping of the birds.  He had quickly dressed in his armor with the help of his squires.  One carrying his heavy horned helm.  He had drank a small pint of beer to calm his nerves.  He was supremely confident but he could not help but be on edge.  Today he would put his lifetime of training to the test.  He would succeed or his blood would soak the Earth.  He would make sure it was Rhaegar’s blood that was spilled.

With the sun beginning to near the horizon the sound of war horns filled the air.  The horns sounded at the edge of Trident at the ford.  The forces of Rhaegar must have moved forward under cover of night. 

Robert cursed and roared to have his horse brought forward.  Robert knelt down to allow his helm to be placed on his head.  He fidgeted while his horse was brought forward.  The ford was tricky to cross the sandbars constantly shifting with the currents.  This would be made worse with the constant falling rain.

He rushed outside of his tent.  The rain was falling even harder.  The river was rising but the tributaries would not have had time yet to pour into the river to make it start to reach flood stage for several days yet. 

Rhaegar must have sought to cross before the water rose higher.

Robert mounted his horse and went off at a gallop surrounded by his bannermen and the Lords who had risen to his call to arms.

The world had the strange look it always did when one rode fast in full armor.  Your helm hemming in your vision on the sides.  The world all seeming to randomly jerk and shift with the hard pounding of hooves on the ground.  The horse slipping and sliding as it ran forward.  Robert cursed keeping his balance.  Sometimes being 6’6” tall had its disadvantages.

He was soon approaching the east bank of the Trident.  Rhaegar’s forces had crossed and were spreading out a beachhead.  Robert charged his horse at full tilt into the forces of his enemy.  The war horse in full armor charged towards the men.  Robert’s eyes widened when a line of pikemen behind shields lowered their pikes from between their shields.

Their timing had been perfect.  There was no time to turn his horse aside or stop.  With a mighty crash his horse slammed into the wall of pikes.  Two of the long shaft impaled the horse easily punching through its amour.  Its own weight and speed being used against the mighty dysteria.  Deep into horse the poles sunk.  Still the horse slammed the men back crumpling that part of the line.

The dying horse’s forward momentum carried Robert into the line.  Robert slammed his mighty Warhammer down again and again right and left.  His blows killing men about him caving in their helms and breaking their arms.

The rest of his knights that were in his rush slammed into the wall of pikemen collapsing the line.  Robert jumped off his horse as it sagged down to its knees the beast dying from its grievous wounds.

Robert roared his commands organizing the counterassault.  He looked across the ford.  There on the other bank was his hated enemy.  Rhaegar was talking to some of his Lords giving commands.

The sounds of combat filled the air.  Men were screaming in both rage and agony.  Robert’s body jolted back.  He grimaced in sharp pain.  Several longbow arrows had slammed into his armor.  The plate armor resisted penetration but the kinetic energy of the arrows themselves still hit his body like a kicking horse.  The linen undercoats helped to absorb the shock of impacts.  He would have dark bruises as mementos.

An unseated horse was stomping the muddy bank.  Robert ran over to the horse and with some difficulty chasing the turning horse around got up on it.  He and his honor ground charged into the water. 

“Aarrrgggggg!” Robert roared in frustration.  His men were advancing through a blizzard of arrows.  He now roared in exultation when he saw clouds of arrows from his side of the Trident buzzing towards Rhaegar’s forces and seeing men fall down feathered.

Rhaegar had charged his own mount into the river with his bannermen.  Arrows and javelins were still being fired and thrown into Robert’s force as his forces returned the fire back.  To Robert’s right and left bannermen fell.  A spear came hurtling in from nowhere and pierced into his horse’s ribs.  The beast screamed out its pain bloody froth spewing out its mouth.  The horse toppled over throwing Robert into the river.

He kicked wildly getting his footing on the river bottom the water coming up to his shoulders.  He struggled to the sand bar in the middle of the channel.  He struggled up onto it.  The mighty man bent over at the waist gasping for breath.

Bent over he saw Rhaegar struggling his horse up onto the other end of the long ten yard wide sandbar.  The water only six to eight inches deep over the sandbar.  Rhaegar started to charge his horse forward when a flight of arrows rained into him.  The horse feathered with four arrows and others bouncing off Rhaegar’s armor.

Robert stood up but three arrows hit him in back slamming him back down to his knees.  His own damn forces had just tried to kill him! 

Rhaegar’s horse toppled over with Rhaegar jumping off and landing hard on the sandbar. 

Both men rose up.  Their bannermen fell back.  The two leaders of their respective camp would fight for the future of Westeros here on the ford of the Trident.

AAAARRRWWWOOOOO!  HHHHAAARRRWWWOOOO! AAARRRROOOOOOOOO!

The notes repeated over and over again.  Multiple horns sharing the chorus.  The sounds echoing in the rain leaden air.  It came from up river.  All of those aligned with the Dragon and Stag turned their gaze upstream.  For a short minute the horns were sounded strong and confident.

Robert knew the basic notes of those horns.  They were of the North, the Vale and the Riverlands.  There at the beginning of the ford was a party of roughly seventy men with the standards of the Direwolf, Eagle and Trout resplendent in the dark dank air. 

Between the war horns, new standards and armor that even in the rain and muted light seemed to gleam and glitter in sparkles.  The party had somehow moved in with everyone in the two opposing camps focused single mindedly on each other. 

The horns ceased.

Eddard was at the fore.  Behind him were Jon Arryn and Hoster Tully.  It was clear they were united behind Eddard Stark.

With a look of confusion Robert gazed at his childhood friend.  The group shouldered their horses through the current and came up upon a sandbar thirty yards away and their horses rose up to stand on the sand with water pouring off the horses. 

Why were they here now?  Had Eddard finally came to his senses? 

The three parties looked at each other.  Eddard and his two fellow wardens simply sat on their horses looking at Robert and Rhaegar.

For two minutes all was quiet.  Robert was uneasy.  What was Eddard up too?  Finally, he had to know.

“What are doing here Eddard Stark?  You refused my call to arms.  It is too late to honor your fealty.  I have already won Eddard.”

Eddard kicked his horse forward several steps forward of Hoster and Jon.

“I have come to proclaim myself as a Champion” Eddard spoke.  His voice soft but it carried across the wet air easily.

Laughter came to Robert’s throat.  He laughed hard for a minute.  Finally, Robert Baratheon regained his composure and called out to the man he no longer truly considered his friend.

“I am the greatest warrior here!  I do not need you as my Champion.”

Eddard locked eyes with Robert Baratheon.  “It is not you I have come to Champion.  I have come to be Rhaegar’s Champion.”

Silence reigned over the battlefield.


	2. Sensei

**Altered Paths**

**Sensei**

**The Vale (Eddard’s Wardship)**

 

The sun felt warm on the face of Eddard Stark.  The young boy of eleven summers looked up to see the Giant’s Lance the tallest mountain in the range called the Mountains of the Moon towering over him.  Atop that crag, the Eyrie strode across its shoulders.  The far off peak hidden and then as if by magic reappearing with the large white clouds that rolled by on the high winds.  The sudden coming out of clouds made the white stone of the castle glow as if a magical fire burned within its walls.  It made his face smile.

To the west, the ward of Jon Arryn looked at the waterfall named Alyssa's Tears.  The name from a Queen of ancient lineage.  The waterfall named for Alyssa Arryn.  She saw her family butchered before her and never shed a tear.  Like that long dead woman no drop of the waterfall ever touched the valley below.  The tears of the waterfall boiled off to mist and caste to the always strong winds of the higher altitude.

Melancholy thoughts flowed from that mist in the air to the young mind of Eddard Stark.  The smile came off Eddard’s face.  So much of history was sad he thought to himself.

“Ned!  Come on man!” the bellowed voice of the lead Stag roared.  Eddard smiled running to catch up the group of bachelor stags.  That was what Robert called the group of boys that tagged along behind wherever he went.  Robert was the dominate stag and all the other boys knew it.  His sheer size and force of personality precluded any other possibility. 

The boy ran to catch up with the group of boys that followed Robert as they strode confidently down the streets of the buildings that hugged inside walls of the Gates of the Moon.  The buildings giving shelter to the people who tilled the land to provide food and made the items the Aryns and their household needed to live and thrive.  In the winter the Royals coming down to live with the commoners.  Well, in their royal lodgings of course Eddard smirked.  The royals did not intermix with the commoners as his father did in Winterfell.

All great castles had their own city of commoners hugging its walls and then spreading out from there as time passed and the citizens prospered.  Eddard looked at the buildings that made up the Warrens of the Vale.  The city if you could call it that was a little smaller than Winter Town at his home of Winterfell.  He knew that the towns near Sunspear, Casterly Rock, Kings Landing, and the Terraces of Highgarden were much larger.

The young preteen studied the buildings as he hurried to catch up to Robert.  The buildings of the nobility easy to see.  The edifices constructed with the same hard white granite of the Eyrie.  Much of the stone covered by marble with veins of blue, red and gold.  The stone glinting sharply when the light struck the slabs at the right angle.  These buildings near the walls of the castle called the Gates of the Moon or nestled up against the sides of the mountains the castle was buttressed against.

The buildings of the common were of much simpler construction.  Wood mainly with panels of wood and stucco covering the faces of many of the constructs.  The panels had many shapes and sizes.  The homes small and maybe two stories tall.  He wondered who lived in them and were they happy.  They fascinated the boy.  The taverns, businesses, hotels were larger.  The constructs up to four stories in height. 

“Damnit Ned!  Catch up Starkling!”  Eddard smiled at the bellows of his best friend.  He hurried his pace.

The almost twelve year old had enjoyed spending the dead of winter back in his home of Winterfell.  He had missed his mother and father of course.  He had been most happy to be with his siblings especially Lyanna.  They just seemed to understand each other.  Brandon was okay and Benjin was so shy.  He and Lyanna played together the most and they would walk the castle and outside grounds talking about this and that.  He had no answer for his sister’s desires to take up the sword.  He commiserated with his sister on the unfairness of life.

He wondered again why people were forced to follow paths they did not want.  He would have preferred to stay with his parents but the Vale was not so bad really he smiled to himself.  He loved Jon Arryn almost as much as his father he supposed.  He was so kind and gentle.  And of course there was Robert.  Eddard smiled.  Robert just had that certain something that made all the boys to want to follow him.  Eddard included.

He saw his friend at the front of the group of stags.  Robert had grown greatly while Eddard had been visiting his family at Winterfell.  When Eddard had left down the High Road, when the snows were beginning to fall more frequently and lying on the ground for longer spells, Robert had been tall but not overly taller than Eddard.  That had changed.

Robert was a year and half older than Eddard’s almost twelve years of age.  The now thirteen year old had grown greatly Eddard observed.  He was five if not six inches taller than Eddard now.  His body had filled out too.  Robert had always been more stocky than the Stark youth but he had filled in over the four months Eddard had been away.  Robert had that rawboned look but Eddard knew that Robert would quickly grow into his new height.

His broad shoulders made the now teenager look like a man.  Robert’s voice had deepened while Eddard’s was still that of a boy.  It embarrassed the boy from the North that his friend had started to mature into a man but he himself was still a boy.  Eddard smiled.  That was the way of life.

Eddard was sure he saw the first hints of facial hair sprouting on Robert’s face.  Yes.  His friend was definitely growing up.  Hopefully, Eddard preyed to the old gods he too would soon begin to reach maturity.

The group walked down several narrow alley ways in the Warrens.  The small paths twisting and bending to go past buildings and small courtyards.  Most of the open spaces filled with local farmers selling the food for the day’s meals.  The smell of cooked kid and pork filled the air and had Eddard’s stomach rumbling.  He spied stalls filled with various vegetables and bins of spices to add a little touch to the day’s fare.

One vendor of dark swarthy complexion was selling some oranges and lemons.  Eddard’s mouth watered at the thought of having an orange.

He stopped and bought one from the vendor.  He thanked the man for the fare.  He gave the man several extra copper pences which left a smile on the man’s face.  Eddard knew he was of royal birth and found happiness giving a smile to a man of common birth.  Eddard never forgot the fortune he had being born into nobility.

He was beginning to peal his orange.  A large shadow loomed over him.  He looked up into the face of his friend.

“What are you doing?” Robert asked Eddard.

“Eating an orange.”

“No … why did you buy it from that man from Dorne.  He is dirty” Robert told him in a sage voice.

Eddard merely continued peeling his orange and started to eat it.  He did not like his friend’s prejudices with those of Dorne heritage.  Too many had views like that Eddard thought.  Eddard’s father taught him and his brothers and sister that all men were deserving of respect.  Eddard let his friend’s prejudices fall off his back like rain on a duck.  That was Robert’s problem.   Ummmmm.  The orange was most tasty.

Robert shook his head with a smile and moved on with his stags following behind.

They switched down several streets and moved off to the side of the Warrens.  They were now at a stable that housed many of the horses the merchants and farmers brought to the hamlet when they came to do business.  The smell of hey and horse dung in the air.  Eddard walked to the front of the stables and looked in at the horses.  Most of them not visible but several had their heads out of their stalls.  One had a feed bag around its neck and was happily munching oats.  One had a stable hand feeding it carrots.  Two others were shaking their heads manes jerking.  The horses hoping for a treat.

Robert was holding court telling his followers how he was improving with his war hammer.  He told them of the mighty storms at Storm’s End.  He made the storms sound epic and the boys hung on every word.

Then a disturbance rippled through the group of stags.  Two girls came out of the stables.  Eddard recognized them.  They were the daughters of the owner of the stable.  They were maybe thirteen and fourteen Eddard thought. 

Eddard could not stop staring.  The eldest, Caryss Blackmyre, had changed mighty since Eddard last saw her.  His eyes watched her avidly.  When last Eddard had seen the girl she had a little swell of bosom.  Not now!  Her low cut bodice was more than filled with pale creamy breast.  Not only had her boobs grown the preteen saw.  Her hips had filled out and her butt was so big now.  Big and shapely.  Her dark brown hair lustrous and pulled back over her shoulders.

Her younger sister, Kaenna Blackmyre, had changed as well.  When last the youth saw her she had looked like a boy with her flat chest and lack of curves.  Her hair straight and had hung down her back.  Now she had a nice swell to her chest and her butt too had a new nice shape.  Her medium brown hair now pulled back filled with ribbons and small bows.

The youth could not help but stare.  All the youths stared shocked by the metamorphosis of these girls into young women.  The only one not shocked was Robert.  He was openly flirting with the girls with sweet sounding platitudes and was soon running his hands through their hair and along their flanks.  Robert sat on hay bail.  He pulled the older sister down onto his lap. 

He began to nibble her neck and his hand was now in her bodice.  Eddard could not believe his eyes!  Eddard was stunned at the sensual display.  Soon Robert had the girl’s bodice undone and her young firm breast were out and all could see Robert playing with her now long stiff nipples.  Eddard was shocked that the girl instead of stopping Robert’s efforts instead seemed to be encouraging his friend!  The girl making sounds like the fillies did when a stallion mounted them

It was clear to Eddard that Robert enjoyed being the center of everyone’s attention.  Kaenna was now on his other leg and he quickly had her bodice undone and was playing with her breast too.  He began to kiss both girls.  Eddard was shocked.  The girls were definitely kissing back!  Wasn’t this supposed to not be done until you were married and after the bedding ceremony?!  Eddard felt his neck and face on fire.

The shocks to Eddard only increased.  Robert called over the closest stags and offered to let them feel the girls up.  Robert had his hands underneath both of the girls’ skirts now.  It was obvious where his hands were and what they doing.  The girls’ faces were now sweating and their eyes lidded.  They had their arms around Robert’s neck their hips swirling up into his fingers.  Eddard gaped as if poleaxed.  He looked around.  He seemed to be the only one shocked by this lascivious behavior before the stags of Robert’s group. 

The boys had moved in and anxiously played with the girl’s young firm breasts.  The more confident boys kissing the girl that Robert was not currently kissing.  Caryss started to buck wildly.  She suddenly through her head back and cried out.  Robert’s hand looked like a serpent writhing underneath the girl’s skirt.  Eddard was almost dumbfounded by all he was witnessing.  This was not in the song’s minstrels sang!

Several of the boys, Eddard included were shocked and frightened for Caryss.  To look at her face Eddard was sure she was in extreme pain.  It became evident to Eddard though that the teenage girl was not in pain and began to kiss Robert like her life depended on it.

“Ned … come over her and cop a feel … get a kiss from Caryss and Kaenna.  They both find you cute and would love to have you feel them up and kiss them.  Do the two of you want to fuck Ned?” the tall youth asked the girls.  They both looked at Eddard with eyes that made the youth feel nervous and funny.  The two girls licked their lips with heavily lidded eyes and beckoned for Eddard to come hither.

Eddard was overwhelmed by all this.  He also saw the clear jealousy on some of his friend’s faces seeing Robert play favorites with him.  He did not know what to do so he did nothing.  He stammered and backed up and told Robert that he would “pass for today”.

Robert had laughed great big.  He told the two sisters to “give him time”.  That he would come around.  Eddard was fascinated for sure.  He could not deny that but the youth knew that love and sex were special and were supposed to be saved for one’s marriage.  This was something clearly that Robert and the other youths of his group clearly did not believe in.

He wandered into the stables.  For the next fifteen minutes, Eddard looked here and there around the stables and looked at the horses.  He saw a man working on a horses hoof and moved to him.  He was pulling out a broken nail and replacing it.  The man looked up at Eddard and smiled.  He adjusted his stance to let the nearly twelve year old more easily see what he was doing.  The youth asked for his name.  He was polite and differential to the blacksmith.  A commoner.  The man was impressed.  He liked the youth from the North.  He was not boisterous and boring with trying to prove his virility like the other youth.  Especially one Robert Baratheon.

Caryss shrieked and a few minutes later both sisters were again crying out in pleasure.  The blacksmith saw the youth blush and look slightly agitated.  He decided to tease the youth.  Also, it was never too early to learn the arts of pleasing a woman.

“Why aren’t you out their getting some?” the man asked.  “Now is the time to be getting experience to pleasure your virgin wife when you wed.  Those two are quite randy.  Go out and partake and enjoy boy.  They got the hots for you.” 

Eddard thought the man was jesting with him but when he looked into his eyes Eddard saw he was not.  He stammered “I don’t know Sir Conklyn.”  Again the man took in the boys manners.  So refreshing.  “The actions out there … it doesn’t feel right …”  The boy did have a strong sense of honor for sure.  How rare.

“I like you Eddard Stark.  You have the common touch.  Go out there and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.”

Eddard stammered.  His neck and then his face turned a bright pink.  The blacksmith judged the young boy before him.  The man saw that the boy was easily embarrassed.  He was not worldly like Robert Baratheon.  He could tell this boy actually believed in honor.  How rare the man thought.  He decided to cease encouraging the youth to go out and partake in the sensual delights occurring just outside the stables.

The two continued on in silence.  Robert stuck his head in the stables and bellowed for Eddard to come. That he had missed “all the fun”.  Eddard blushed and the blacksmith rolled his eyes.  Eddard thanked the man for his time and left.  The man smiled at the boy as he left.

Eddard walked back out into the bright sunshine of an early spring day.  The sun strong on his face.  The air still had a bite to it but the cool air invigorated the boy from the North.

As they walked away from the stables Eddard observed a beggar sitting with his back to the building three houses down.  He was tall but looked broken down.  His hair unkempt.  The man’s face and hands dirty.  He was bent over with seeming palsy.  His body folded with his shoulders rounded.  He had a bowl in front of him.  Eddard saw he had a dirty cloth band around his eyes.  The man was blind.  Before him was a bowl. 

The Stag’s party approached the man.  Eddard had not seen the man before he left for his visit home.  As they passed Eddard stopped and put a silver stag into the bowl.

“Eddard!  Don’t encourage the riffraff.  Let him go somewhere else to beg.”

“Forgive him venerable sir” Eddard said softly and put in another silver stag.  He turned and rushed off after his friend. 

The blind man followed the young Stark’s egress with his sightless eyes.

//////////

Rolling his shoulders Eddard grimaced.  He was tired.  It had been six weeks since his embarrassment at the stables.  He made sure to peel off from Robert’s posse when they started to gravitate towards the stables and the Blackmyre sisters.  He wanted to avoid that discomfort if at all possible.

It had been another painful day for Eddard.  Their weapons instructor was relentless in his physical training of his charges.  Constant calisthenics, running and strength exercises had the Stark boy’s muscles aching.  The practice with Robert did not help that condition.  The collision of their staffs and practice swords had Eddard’s shoulders, elbows and wrists aching from the shocks of repeated impacts of their training implements.

Robert’s growth spurt was increasing Eddard thought ruefully.  He was probably an inch taller and fifteen pounds heavier.  Robert was going to be a huge powerful man Eddard knew.  That height and size would give him great power just by the nature of Robert’s body.  Robert must not realize his strength Eddard thought.  He did not know how his blows affected his training peers.

They had finished their practice for the day.  It was four hours past the noon day sun.  Robert’s following group of stags were laughing, jesting and boasting.  Eddard followed along keeping to himself.  He found their boisterous antics unseemly.  He did not mind it so much but he refused to comport himself thus.  He would let Robert do that for him.  Eddard believed in decorum in one’s actions.

Eddard was proud of himself.  He had gotten in a good shot on his friend in their staff practice.  Their teacher had seemed surprised at Eddard getting the better of Robert if even for a moment.  It was plain that Robert was surprised.  He glared at his friend.  Robert did not like being taken down in any way in front of others.

Nervousness filled Eddard seeing the Blackmyre sisters come up to Robert.  With them came Chlowee Traever

and Airis Parne.  The first girl had auburn hair while the second lass had long wavy blond hair.  Both girls fifteen and filled with curves.  The sisters pressed into his body and Robert felt their asses.  Eddard felt his face blush hotly. The other stags jested and muscled in to get the other girls’ attention.  Attention they were happy to give.

Eddard slowed his steps and fell slightly behind the happy boys in their boyish rut.  He wanted no parts of that play.  He rotated his shoulders his steps measured to keep himself back from Robert and his noisy pack.  Truth to told, he found their extreme antics disquieting.  It seemed, well, unseemly.  They were behaving in a manner not fit for nobility the now twelve year old thought.

He noticed the blind beggar sitting underneath a small tree at the intersection of three of the main thoroughfares on the northwest side of the Warrens.  On the south side of the small clearing of the intersection was a weaver hawking her blankets, sweaters and throw rugs.  Against the other side of the little court was two vendors selling vegetables both fresh and those cooked in a wok.  The women and man putting in spices that made the air aromatic.  

The blind man seemed to have a cold.  His breathing seemed a little raspy.  He approached the man.  The man lifted his bowl and shook it.  The two coins in it rattled.

“Alms for the poor” the man weakly intoned.  Eddard noted the slight palsy in the man’s neck making his head shudder.  Eddard felt compassion for the man.  He pulled out his money pouch and pulled out a golden dragon.  He started to drop the coin in the man’s bowl.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Robert’s voice bellowed behind Eddard.  He had not heard Robert approach and started.  Eddard felt his wrist gripped and his hand ripped back.  The gold coin went flying to hit the ground and roll away for several revolutions on its side before toppling over.  “You are just encouraging this beggar … this blight …”

“What is your problem Robert?!  Look at him!  He is just an old man who is in need … it is my money!”

“You are nobility—this man is trash Eddard.  He needs to go to an alms house or throw himself on the mercy of the church of the seven three streets over.  He is not your responsibility Eddard!” Robert shouted at his friend.

Robert shoved Eddard back hard sending his friend hard onto the hard compacted ground.  The air rushed out of the twelve year old’s lungs.  Eddard lying on the ground watched his large friend advance on the blind beggar.  The man could sense his danger and held his arms up in a defensive position.  His arms shook in their weakness.

Shaking his head to clear it, Eddard saw Robert swat at the blind man.  Eddard was thankful his powerful man was not violently punching the man.  Robert was screaming at the poor middle age man that he was a foreigner and needed to leave.  He was a blight to the Vale.  His blows became stronger.  The blind man cried out in pain and tried to scoot back but Robert was all over him.

Robert’s stags were in a wide half circle.  Most were into the dark milieu encouraging Robert on.   The girls were giggling at the murmur play.  Robert was soaking it up and getting more riled up playing to his court.  The Baratheon ripped off the blind man’s binding covering the man’s eyes.  Robert rebounded.  A hush fell on everyone.  A weapon had lashed across this man’s face from one side to the other.  The top of the bridge of his nose and eyes sockets had been gauged out.  The scars thick and knotted white with age.

Robert shook the shock off his frame.  He gripped the front of the man’s long robe and pulled his body taunt and prepared to start slapping his face.  The man was crying and weakly asking for mercy.

With a lurch, Robert’s body flew to the side his grip on the blind man’s robe broken.  Eddard had run full tilt into his friend and drove them off the beggar their bodies staggering to the side.  Robert in his surprise whipped his right hand around and punched Eddard hard in the ribs.  Eddard cried out in pain.  His body folded over.  Roaring Robert pushed Eddard hard sending him toppling to the ground hard again skinning the boy’s hands and elbows with his hard landing.

The tall teenager shook his head and looked down at his friend.

“What is your problem Ned?!  What has gotten into you?  You attacked me!”

“Leave the beggar alone!” Eddard shouted as loud as he could with his bruised ribs allowed.  He was on his back holding his ribs.  “He has done nothing to you!  What honor is there in attacking a man who can’t defend himself?”  Eddard shook his head and felt tears running down his cheeks.  He was hurting before and now his body shouted in pain.  Eddard rolled on to his stomach and waited for the pain to fade.

“Aarrrggghhhh!  Damn you and this stupid sense of honor!  Grow up Ned and forget silly children tales and similes.”  The tall youth stared down at his friend.  “I will see you tomorrow at our training Ned.  _Man_ … what is it with you and this stupid beggar Ned? Robert Baratheon turned his attention back to the beggar.  “I will treat you harshly if I see you here again beggar” Robert sneered at the man with palsy.  Robert Baratheon and his party went off laughing at the just finished event.

The Stark youth moaned.  He reflected that Robert had probably still been a little peeved at Eddard getting the better of him earlier today.  Eddard had to smile.  Getting the better of Robert still filled him with pride. For a minute Eddard gathered himself.

He felt a shadow darken him.  He had not heard anyone approach.  He guessed that Robert had come back to exact just a little more revenge.  The twelve year old steeled himself.  For a minute Eddard hung his head down waiting.  Nothing happened.  He finally looked up.  He started.

It was the beggar but he had been totally transformed.  The man Eddard had seen over the six weeks had been weak and folded over.  His whole body spoke of a man broken.  This was not that man.  The man before him was tall with strength.  His shoulders thrown back.  His arms looked mighty and his hands did not shake.  He stood with shoulders square and his legs now looked like pillars.  He looked down steadily at Eddard.

“Wh .. What?” Eddard stammered out.  The change in the man was almost otherworldly.

“Why did you come to my aid Eddard of House Stark?”

“It was the right thing to do Sir.  I did what anyone would do.”

“I heard many others … none came to my aid but you.”

Eddard had nothing to say.  The man was right he realized.

“Eddard of House Stark.  I have waited for you.  You have filled my Sightless Dreams for many years.  My Blind Visions have been filled with your coming.”

“I am sorry for the actions for my friends venerable sir … I don’t understand?  The—the change in you …” Eddard stared up at the miraculously changed man.

“Yes.  My dreams spoke true.  You are a Water Dancer merely waiting.  Death has a new avatar.  I will train you.”

Eddard got up onto his knees.  “This change in you Sir.  I don’t understand” the young Stark asked again.  It was impossible what he now saw.  Where there had been a feeble broken man now stood an obvious warrior.  A deadly warrior.

“Before, you and your friends saw me as you thought to see me.  Now you see me as I am.”

“I don’t understand.  Your words are strange to me Sir.  Your accent is strange.”

The man smiled for the briefest of moments.  He moved off scooting his right foot right to left.  The man walked in slow controlled manner working to the left.  His foot touched the cloth that had been ripped off his face.  The man bent down and picked up the fabric.  The man shook the fabric to get the dust out of it.  He then folded the cloth and tied it again around his head hiding his eyes.

“Ah better.”

“What is your name Sir?  I would prefer to call you by your name.”

“I have had many names.  The name of my birth is lost to me now.  I have gone by many names since.  I was raised on the docks of Ragman Harbor.  I grew up in Braavos.  When I became more than No One I was given the name ‘Wharf King’.  For now you can call me that.”

“How strange?” Eddard told the man towering over him.

“Will you come with me?  I wish to talk to you Eddard of House Stark.  Much rides on your shoulders.”

Eddard face scrunched.  What was this man talking about?  Still his curiosity was peaked.  The man was looking down at him with a steady gaze.  No trace of palsy could be seen in the man.  His body now exuded strength and resolve.

“Where do you want to go?  Do you have lodgings?  You are beggar.”  Eddard was not mocking the man merely stating fact.

The man smiled.  “I have much to explain to you Eddard of House Stark.”

“Just Eddard … or Ned?”

“Am I your friend?  Only Robert calls you that.  Jon Arryn names you Eddard.”

That surprised Eddard.  _How had this man known this_?

His face most have shown his thoughts.

“Every habitation of man has its vermin.  Rats if you will.  Unnoticed by most.  I have ‘rats’ wherever I go.  Rats watching and listening.”

Eddard shook his head again.  This man was most strange.  He had ‘ _rats_ ’ for friends? Eddard wondered to himself.

“Will you come with me?”

The twelve year old boy made a snap decision.  “Yes.”

“This is well.  Please follow me.”

Eddard had slowly stood up wincing at his bruised ribs.  With a grunt Eddard forced his posture fully erect.  A slight wheeze escaped Eddard’s lips while he watched the supposed weak beggar start to walk off.  The man moved confidently and with sure steps.  He moved to where had been begging and bent down quickly organizing and binding up his belongs in a carrying satchel he put around his shoulder. 

“I heard your golden dragon roll on the dirt.”

Eddard remembered the coin and looked around.  He saw it and picked it up.

“How did you know it was a golden dragon?”

“Gold has its own unique sound.”

Shaking his head at this strange man’s off putting pronouncements Eddard watched the man work pieces of wood into each other to make a thin rod.  The man started to whip the stick back and forth.  Eddard thought he heard a slight clicking.

“Please follow me Eddard of House Stark.  The path is convoluted.”  Eddard started to protest.  “I will call you Ned—maybe, if you accept my proposal.  Let us proceed.  I have much to show you.”

Intrigued Eddard followed the man.  A man who moved confidently.  He seemed to know where each intersection was and the bends of the path.

“How do you know where you are going and where you stuff was in the court we were at?”

“When you are blind you learn to memorize your environment.  I have developed a precise memory for steps and distances as I travel.  I will teach you this in time.”

“I am not blind?”

“Are you sure of this?  I will teach you to truly see your environment when you become my student.”

“I haven’t accepted your offer my honorable Sir.”

“True.  I am ahead of myself.  Please follow.”

Eddard followed the confident sure steps of the tall man who walked as if he could see.  The man was now clearly filled with strength.  Had it been there before Eddard wondered to himself.  He wondered why the man had hidden it.  The man turned at different intersections.  They were heading to the castle wall and the east side of the mountains that abutted the fortress.  The pathway narrowed.  The dwellings became of slightly poorer in construction but were well maintained.  The buildings pressing in on the now narrow pathway.  The path little more than shoulder width of the tall broad shouldered man before the Stark youth.  Eddard looking up could only see the tall mountain wall near.

With a sudden moment they were in a small courtyard that was maybe fifteen yards across.  The ground hard packed.  The dirt covered with fresh cut hay.  Eddard turned in a slow circle.  He would never have guessed this enclosure existed nestled against the mountain side, castle wall and the back of buildings facing out from the courtyard.  There was a building built up against the mountain wall.  The space long but narrow.

The twelve year old saw a small girl of maybe nine.  The man went to her and they talked softly.  She nodded and left glancing at Eddard heading to the only entrance to this small cul-de-sac.  Eddard watch her leave with a questioning look.  The man was breaking apart the stick he had whisked from side to side while they had walked to his hidden location.

“That was Lilliyan Baerley.  One of my ‘rats’”.

Eddard could only shake his head at this strange man and his strange manner of speech.  How could a girl be a rat?  Was he belittling the girl?  Somehow he knew the man was not.  Eddard remembered now that the man named himself the ‘Wharf King’.

“I have much to teach you Eddard of House Stark son of Rickard Stark.”  When this ‘Wharf King’ spoke this to Eddard it made his eyebrows knit.  How did this man know the name of his father?  He watched the man walk as if sighted to the doorway that seemed to be to his domicile.  He put his broken down sticks on a shelf.  His hand came back with two battle staffs.  One had a long blue hawk feather on it.  He threw the one without an adornment to Eddard who caught it awkwardly.

The man tisk.  “I have much to teach you.  ON GUARD!”

In an instant the tall powerful man had his six foot staff spinning in a blur over his head.  He had his hands rotating their grip on the staff to keep it spinning so fast it whistled.  The feather like a leaf violently whipping in a hurricane.  He advanced unerringly upon Eddard. 

Eddard’s eyes went wide.  He juked back and spun to the left.  The man followed Eddard unerringly.  This blind man kept spinning the staff in his hands.  Suddenly he brought it down stopping its spinning and jabbed forward with the staff.  The end butted Eddard hard in the left shoulder.  Loud was Eddard’s yelp of pain.

Eddard staggered back.  Then his feet were swept out from underneath him.  Eddard landed with a hard impact on the straw covered dirt which stunned the twelve year old.  He shook his head.  His eyes flared wide seeing the end of the staff of the blind man coming towards his face.  He rolled out of the way and spun swinging his staff in a wide arc around him.

It was blocked by the blind man.  His staff knocked down with the Wharf King’s staff sliding up his staff to rap the youth’s knuckles.  Eddard cried out but did not drop the staff.  He snarled and hacked at the man in front of him.  _The only problem he was not there_!  From Eddard’s left he was hit in the ribs hard.  He spun in that direction slashing out with his staff.  Like a ghost the blind man was not there.  His back took a hard hit from the end of his tormentor’s staff sending Eddard flying forward.

Eddard spun around to see only air.  Then his right elbow was hit hard.  Eddard almost dropped his staff crying out in pain.  His hand was numb. He jabbed forward blindly.  His eyes were filled with tears from the pain of his received blows.  Again his feet were swept out from underneath him. 

The air had been knocked out of his lungs.  The blind man stood above him holding his staff in his left hand.  The man would be staring down at Eddard if he had eyes.

“You fought extremely well” the man told him. 

Eddard snorted.  “I suck.  My sword instructor is right.  I will never be great … at best maybe average … you just proved it” Eddard got out between grimaces of pain.

The man held out his hand to help Eddard up.  Wearily Eddard stood before this strange man.  His right hand gripping his staff for support.  The man ‘looked’ at him intently.

“No Eddard of House Stark.  Your instructor has been merely teaching himself.  I will teach **_you_**! You are already a Water Dancer … you are merely waiting to hear the tune … I will be your dance partner … I will teach you.  I have dreamed of your coming for decades.”

Eddard could not stop his face contorting his eyebrows drawing down.  This man was clearly not that sharp if he thought he could ever be a great warrior.

“I can hear and feel your doubt.  Do not doubt me … Ned.  I will teach you.  You will become death given flesh.  You and your scions will set destiny on its proper path.  Your House will prevent great slaughter and bring Dragons back to life.  I have seen it at night in my Blind Visions.  You have the strength both physically, mentally and more importantly, spiritually to do what must be done.”

 _Okay_ Eddard thought to himself.  The man was definitely strange but he fought like a shadow cat.  How could such a large man move so fast!  How could a blind man be so quick and more shocking be so surefooted!  First he was in front of Eddard and then he was behind.  It was impossible for a blind man to move so fast.  For any man.  Eddard had seen the man’s eyes.  They had been gauged out.  _Who was this man_?

The man reached out with no doubt of missing and gripped Eddard’s shoulder.  One would have thought the man saw Eddard.  The youth could feel the man’s intense sightless gaze resting on him.

“Accept my offer Edd—Ned.  You are destined to achieve greatness as well as your progeny.  Allow me to teach you my pupil to reach for the stars.  I will hone you to the razor sharpness you were born to be.  I will make you like unto a Faceless Man.  Only you will be free of our strictures and mores.  Let me have the honor to be your Sensei.  I have waited so long.”

The man’s voice only carried earnest appeal.  Eddard could not help but be moved.  He felt he was going nowhere with his current instructor.

In a hesitant voice he answered “Okay my Sensei.  I will become your student.”

For the first time the man actually smiled a full smile.  A smile that lasted.

“Good.  Good.  You will continue with your studies with your current sword master.  No need to cause suspicions.  He is working on your conditioning and is teaching you the very basics of our craft.  I will use the beginnings of his foundations to reach the true warrior that lies deep within you Ned.  I repeat.  My Blind Visions have finally reached maturation.   You have honored me.” 

Eddard rolled his eyes at his new Sensei’s histrionics. 

“Stop rolling your eyes my student.”

The preteen started.  _How_?!

“I will teach you your craft.  I will teach you to fully perceive the world around you.  Like the grasshopper by your right foot.”

The twelve year old looked down.  To his surprise there indeed was a grasshopper near his right foot.  It was working its back legs.  Its antenna waving.  He looked up at his Sensei with wonder.”

“But—how?  How did you know it was there?” the youth asked with wonder in his voice.

“I have a more important question my student.”

“Wh—what?”  Eddard looked in wonder down at the grasshopper by his foot.

“How could you not know the grasshopper was there?  I will teach you.”

 

 


End file.
